


Wondering, Wishing, an Worrying

by gorillazusername



Series: Wondering, Wishing, and Worrying [1]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:57:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3755290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorillazusername/pseuds/gorillazusername
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing's the same when the band reunites on Plastic Beach. Mostly about the band members relationships with 2D and Murdoc. Might become M later I don't know. We'll see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wondering

**Author's Note:**

> Again, something else I'm transferring from my fanfiction! Please enjoy :)

 After years of wondering, wishing, and worrying about her band mates, Noodle was relieved when she saw them again.

Russel, she knew, would be okay, but she still wondered about him. Honestly, she probably missed him more out of either of her other bandmates. Whenever she was upset, she thought of him. He never failed to make her feel better and she was glad he was the first one she got to see again.  Murdoc –  _Murdoc_  – Murdoc she always assumed that he would be fine. Sure, she knew he would be upset, very upset, that she had gone missing. At the beginning there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he wouldn't spends months, maybe even years, trying to find her. But with every passing day, she lost more and more hope. Every now and then, she would grow upset - why hadn't he found her yet? She asked herself. Did he not care about her as much as she thought he did? Eventually, she gave up, pushing any thought of him away. There was no point waiting around for him.

No, 2D was the one she feared about the most. Without her guidance and friendship she knew, even from a young age, that he would be absolutely fucked.

And when Russel found her and told her that Murdoc had kidnapped him, she was terrified. And furious. Definitely furious.

                “What happened to you, Noods?” Russel asked her one night as he waded through the water, careful not to crush anything below his feet as they grazed the bottom.

                She shook her head, grimacing. Thankful her friend couldn’t see her, she laid on her side, patting his head reassuringly. “Do not worry, Russel.” She called cheerfully, the name sounding so foreign now. The man’s head twitched, raising his head a bit in apprehension. “The worst is over. All I care about is finding the others.”

\- -

                2D had always trusted Noodle the most out of anyone else in the band, she knew this. She had always thought this was because she seemed to be the only one who understood. But in reality, she knew that it was because she was always the one who would eventually figure it out anyway. This was okay with her, though, because it would mean that he would always tell her everything he needed to. Noodle didn’t like seeing her friend sad and, usually, whenever she spoke to him, he would feel better afterwards.

                This was why one memory always stuck out in her mind.

                The keyboardist had come to her room, knocking on her door quietly, as if hoping she wouldn’t answer. Of course, she did. She had noticed earlier that he hadn’t been feeling well; he had been complaining about having more headaches than usual (she counted five in total). Really, she had been expecting him to stop by.

                “Ey, Noods?” 2D had finally said, after a long time of just sitting on the end of her bed and staring at his hands. She had looked up eagerly from her videogame, setting it down next to her and shifting closer to him. He had looked up at her, his expression giving away his distraught state of mind. She wrapped an arm around him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He pulled her closer, snivelling miserably. “D’ya fink…why does Muds ‘ate me so much?” He had slurred through sobs. Then he rambled aimlessly about the bassist, it was hard for her to understand, but still, she listened intently.

                When the man had ended up curled up on her lap, nearly asleep, she ran her fingers through his hair comfortingly. “Murdoc-san does not hate you.” She whispered into his ear. “He does not hate you, Toochi.”

                She remembered distinctly the sad, lazy smile that spread across her friends face.

\- -

                Only after Noodle finally saw Murdoc and 2D again, both staring incredulously across the shore at the huge man that knelt before them, she relaxed. She jumped out of her friends’ mouth, landing expertly on her feet, and gazed at her bandmates. Tears brimmed her eyes when she saw them. They were better than she had imagined.

                Murdoc’s hair was greying, she noticed immediately. His skin was an a lot darker green than it had been when she last saw him. The bags under his eyes were a lot heavier and the wrinkles on his forehead were deeper. He looked so much older than she expected, so much more okay than she feared he would be. Her heart almost leapt out of her chest as she saw his eyes soften and a smile spread across his face when they locked eyes. Soundlessly, he said her name. She nodded at him, as if to assure him that he was right. It really was her, and it really was him.

                Suddenly, she felt thin arms wrap around her. Instinctively, she pulled away, holding her arms out in front of her protectively. When she saw who it was, she broke out into joyous sobs.

                2D stood in front of her, crouched slightly with his arms stretched out towards her. Though still pale, his skin was a bit darker. His hair had grown out quite a lot since she had seen him last - it fell against the side of his bony face, barely touching the bottom of his chin - and it looked brighter than it used too. His once porcelain skin showed signs of aging. Left over scars, wrinkles, sunspots littered his imperfect face. He was a lot skinnier than she remembered him, she realised. The knobs of his fingers, elbows, and knees jutting out almost painfully. He looked so different; all but his eyes.

                His eyes still stared at her like she was the most important person in his life. The bags under his eyes were heavy, but not the worse they’ve been. As she looked closer, she noticed his left eye was darker than the right.

                She threw her arms around him, letting herself be lifted and spun around. He cried out her name, kissing her forehead sloppily. Burying her face in his chest, she breathed him in. He smelled of trash and salt, but the faint scent of butterscotch still remained. She then realised as a sob raked through her body that the top of her head grazed the bottom of his chin.

                Several hours after their reunion, the four band members were calm enough to crawl on top of Russel’s head and get ready to shove off to land.

                Murdoc was oddly silent, staring at the Plastic Beach behind them wistfully. 2D was staring at the back of the bassist’s head, smiling softly. Noodle, though confused, decided not to comment, looking at 2D eagerly.

                “2D,” She said, grabbing his attention. He pried his gaze away from Murdoc and looked at her. He smiled peacefully at her, nodding. She opened her mouth, full intending to ask about what he had been doing on the island, when she instead asked, “What happened to your eye?”

                The blue-haired man looked confused until Noodle pointed to the left side of his face. Curiously, 2D raised a finger to his eye, wincing when he touched it. Murdoc glanced at him, his expression blank, before turning back to the island. Noodle watched him, bristling. She had a feeling she knew where it came from.

                “Oh,” 2D said, sounding genuinely surprised. He then shrugged. “It must’ve been from me fall or sumfin’.” He reasoned, softly touching the bruise again and, again, grimacing. “While me and Murdo’ was runnin’ from the Boogeyman, I tripped. Didn’ I, Muds?”

                Finally turning to the other two, Murdoc looked at 2D, longer this time. Looking down, eyebrows drawing together, as if trying to recall what happened. Noodle looked between the two in wonderment; usually at this point when 2D tried to lie for Murdoc, the bassist would just attack him, angry with him for trying to hide it. The Satanist looked back up at the keyboardist, nodding seriously. 2D just smiled pleasantly at him. Maybe a lot more had changed than she originally thought.

                “Must’ve been.” Murdoc grunted, biting his fingernails absentmindedly.

                Despite herself, Noodle continued to press. “You fell? Are you positive?”

                This time, both men gazed at her, perplexed.

                “Could you’ve gotten it sooner, faceache?” Murdoc asked, blinking at 2D, all the usual venom behind the nickname gone. Noodle cocked her head to the side, watching the two carefully.

                2D tapped his head thoughtfully, looking out at the water and narrowing his eyes. “I don’t fink so…” He muttered. He turned to Noodle, smiling slightly. “I don’t fink there’s any other reason, Noods. Why d’ya ask?”

                Noodle stared at the two incredulously as they both gazed at her curiously.

                She shook her head, offering a strained smile. Both boys immediately relaxed and smiled back.

                “There is no reason. I was just wondering.” She commented, dismissing it with the wave of her hand. She patted Russel’s head reverently and called at the top of her lungs, “We are really just happy to see you, are we not Russel?”

                Russel nodded, causing all three band members to scream and hold on for dear life.

\- -

There was something 2D was keeping from her, Noodle decided.

For several weeks, the band hadn’t see anything but ocean, but they didn’t really mind. Their time was spent catching up. Noodle, though she had replayed memories of her bandmates over and over again in her head, was surprised to discover how different it felt to actually be _with_ them. She had forgotten all the small, unnoticeable things. Like, the faces that 2D made when someone asked him a question, or the way Murdoc acted out every tale he spun, or the hearty, deep sound of Russel’s laughter. She even surprised herself with her own giggle fit when Murdoc retold the story of when he first met Lou Reed.

“Think I’m joking?” Murdoc accused while she and Russel snickered. He grinned, getting down on one knee and proposing to the air. “I said to him, I said, ‘Mister Reed, would you do me the pleasure of being Missus Lou Alphonce Niccals?’ And he _wouldn’t_ have it. It took us _days_ for him finally agree to take _my_ last name.” Russel roared with laughter below their feet, lifting a finger up to wipe away tears. Murdoc beamed.

Still chuckling, Noodle glanced over at 2D.

                He was staring at Murdoc with amusement and admiration written all over his face. Noodle immediately sobered; it was always painful to watch 2D when he was around Murdoc. He always looked so hopeful. The keyboardist’s mouth twitched into a grin, blinking in surprise as the bassist spun around wildly to emphasise a point. He let out a quiet chuckle, causing the other man to glance at him.

                And then Murdoc did something she wasn’t expecting: he winked at the younger man.

                2D looked away, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, and gazed out at the ocean. Murdoc stared at him for a little while longer, before narrowly avoiding Russel’s hand as the drummer smacked it down on his chest to catch his breath.

                Something tugged at Noodle in the back of her mind. She was thankful, beyond it, that 2D and Murdoc were still on such great terms. It was like how it used to be back at Kong before their first break-up. They finally seemed like they could actually have a good time (well, without being drunk) again. The private jokes, the secret smiles, the silent conversations when their eyes met; she was happy for them. She really was. But there was something different about their relationship. And that was fine; as long as they were getting along, she didn’t care. No, that wasn’t the problem. She just didn’t understand—

                Why hadn’t 2D talked to her about it yet?

                For the first couple of days, she excused it. It was obviously hard to have one of their conversations with Russel and Murdoc around, seeing as 2D was always very wary to even talk to _her_. But, even when the drummer was snoring, floating aimlessly through the water, and the bassist was busy fiddling with Noodle’s acoustic guitar, 2D talked of mild things. He didn’t even mention Murdoc’s name once. And he dodged any questions that she asked about Plastic Beach. Sometimes, it didn’t even feel like the her friend was listening to her.

                She then thought, she must have been mistaken. No matter the distance or time they spent apart, she would never stop being 2D’s main confidant. She was his best friend, and he was hers. She knew that was never going to change.

                Or, at least, she thought she did. And, now, she wasn’t so sure. Because, later that very night, she had heard 2D and Murdoc talking in hushed voices behind her when they thought she was sleeping. She has stayed awake all night, long after the men stopped talking, and just stared straight ahead of her at nothing. She couldn’t sleep when her mind kept her awake, whispering impossible scenarios that, now, seemed more believable than ever.

                Presently, 2D looked over at her, confused. She waved him off, forcing a smile and focusing her attention back on Murdoc, who was screaming at Russel for almost crushing him. Russel just continued to laugh to the point of tears.

                She felt 2D still staring at her for a long time after that, but she refused to return his gaze.

\--

                “Three rooms, if you can, luv.” Murdoc purred, leaning on the reception desk and winking at the woman on the other side of it. She stared at them, eyes wide and mouth slack jawed. She blinked slowly, glancing from Noodle’s black eye, to Murdoc and 2D’s sundried skin, and, finally, all the way up to Russel. She pointed up to him, attempting to speak but ending up just whimpering. “What’s that?” The bassist asked, smirking. He glanced up at Russel, chuckling lightly. “Oh him? No, he’ll be just _spiffing_ out here, darling. I wouldn’t expect you to have a room to fit _his_ fat arse.”

                Russel growled menacingly, causing Murdoc to grin sheepishly at him.

                After the young woman got over her shock enough to speak, she croaked out in a low, southern accent, “We have only have two rooms open, sir.”

                Murdoc, tongue lolling out of his mouth and humming unpleasantly. The woman pulled a face and 2D cleared his throat, “Me and Muds will share, then.” He said, a hint of aggravation in his voice. Noodle looked up at him, surprised and slightly wounded.

                The bassist glanced behind him, cocking an eyebrow at him. He shrugged and pushed himself off the counter, holding out his hand for the keys without looking at the receptionist. The woman handed the keys to him shakily, still staring up at Russel, who was now walking over to an open field to lay down.

                Noodle caught the keys that were tossed to her easily, watching as Murdoc strode down the open hallway of the motel down to his room. She felt a long, skinny arm wrap around her waist and squeeze. Looking up at 2D, she forced a small smile. He returned it, nodding as if he understood, and said, “Don’t worry, Noods. Everythin’ll be back to normal soon.” He kissed the top of her head and she leaned into him, closing her eyes.

                Pulling away, he followed Murdoc into his room staunchly. Her gaze followed him desperately.

                No, it wouldn’t. Things wouldn’t ever be back to normal again.

\--

                The next morning, 2D was gone.

                Noodle was awoken from a dreamless sleep by a loud knock on her door. Instinctively, she rolled out of bed and grabbed the switchblade she had kept under her pillow. Stalking towards the door, she pressed her face up against it and peeked through the peephole. She relaxed when she saw a huge, familiar brown eye looking at her. Rubbing her eyes, she stuck her weapon back in her back pocket and opened the door.

                Ignoring Russel’s shouts after her, Noodle sprinted to Murdoc’s room and kicked the door down. The bassist, who was sitting on the bed, jumped and looked up at her. She stomped over to him, grabbing him by his hair and holding her knife to his neck. “Where is he?” She growled, pressing the blade to his throat.

                She had expected him to yell, scream, struggle. That was what Murdoc did. He lied, he abused, he shrieked, he cursed, he drank, he smelled, he acted like an inhuman, piece of trash. All the time. That was the Murdoc Noodle grew up with. That’s the Murdoc she knew. This man – This, _whoever_ he was – was not the Murdoc she knew.

                This Murdoc stared at her with puffy, heartbroken mismatched eyes. The look alone shocked her enough to recoil from him.

                Dropping the switchblade, she glowered at him. “You know, do you not?” She snarled, wrapping her arms around herself. “You know where he is. And he told you where he was going.” Helplessly, she started to huff uncontrollably. Her heart was beating so fast that her blood couldn’t keep up. She felt lightheaded; she stumbled to her knees, her vision speckling. Distantly, she heard Russel booming voice screaming at Murdoc to do something, but he made no attempt to move. He shook his head, looking terrified. She stared at him, eyes filling with tears. “He told you where he was going. And he did not tell me.” Skewing her eyes shut, she fell to the floor on her side.

                She wept, then, not caring if the other two men saw. “He did not tell me. He did not tell me.” She choked through sobs over and over again until she ran out of breath.

                Numbly, she felt arms wrap around her and pull her closer. Despite herself, she burrowed into the embrace and sobbed helplessly. The bassist left watery kisses as he muttered soothing things into her hair. As her breathing became less ragged and her heart slowed, Noodle noticed the odd murmurs began to resemble a familiar melody*.

                Murdoc’s horrible stench and terrible singing was oddly comforting, she realised as he rocked her slowly in his lap. It reminded her of simpler times.

                Hours later, Murdoc and Noodle stood outside of the motel, blowing smoke lethargically.

                “Since when do you smoke?” Murdoc asked, glancing at her and raising an eyebrow.

                Noodle laughed humourlessly without looking at him. “I must have picked it up from somewhere.” She commented bitterly. Murdoc huffed, looking away from her to watch a car whip past them on the highway.

                There was a long moment of silence between them. Sighing, Murdoc threw his cigarette on the concrete and crushed it with his Cuban heels. “Y’know, at the beginning, he used to try and talk to the Cyborg.” He said, looking at her seriously. She stared straight ahead, letting the fag burn away in between her fingers. “It wasn’t—I didn’t program her to be _you_ , luv. She wasn’t like you. He needed someone to…” Murdoc trailed off, looking at his hands awkwardly. He shook his head, beginning to walk away. He stopped and turned to her. “He really missed you, Noodle. We both did.”

                Noodle stood there for a couple more minutes, letting the cigarette disappear.

\--

                After months of crying, fuming, and worrying over her band mate, Noodle was furious when she saw 2D again. So furious, the first thing she wanted to do was punch him in the gut.

                2D had contacted Noodle, Murdoc, and Russel through a smoke signal that Russel deciphered from across the ocean as “come now”. Without coordinates, the band just started making their way towards the general area the smoke signal was made. Days later, they realised they were going the wrong way when another message came that said “forgot: 212 Wobble St, London”. Murdoc was so outraged, he didn’t speak for three days. For once in her life, Noodle empathised with him.

Even with Russel’s nonstop paddling across the vast ocean, it still took the band weeks to arrive to their destination. And, by the time they did, Russel and Murdoc were too exhausted to give the keyboardist the hard time. But Noodle was determined, impassioned, hurt, and she had every intention of letting the other man know that. Nothing the other two men would say could stop her from giving 2D a piece of her mind. It was time for _her_ to talk and for _him_ to listen. Eventually, Murdoc and Russel both shrugged it off, agreeing that whatever she did, 2D had coming to him.

Tiredly, Murdoc rang the bell, leaning against the railing. Noodle stood on the bottom step, livid with her hands clenching and unclenching into fists.

The three heard footsteps running down stairs for a good two minutes. Murdoc glanced from Noodle and Russel, raising a perplexed brow. Russel shrugged while Noodle just continued to glare at the doorway. After a loud crashing sound, an even louder curse, the front door flew open.

It all happened so fast. One moment she saw 2D, a huge grin on his face. Then, blinking, the next second she saw 2D’s arms around Murdoc’s waist with his lips smashing against his eagerly.

“ _Finally_!” Russel’s voice boomed, shaking the streetlights and the shutters on the windows.

2D pulled away from Murdoc, arms still securely around his waist. He closed his eyes, taking and deep breath and pressed their foreheads together. He opened his eyes, grinning widely. “’m ready now.” He said, pecking his lips again. Murdoc himself looked absolutely shocked, his cheeks flushing a darker green.

He pushed him away, rolling his eyes. “Good. Fine.” He mumbled with a small smirk, glaring at him and crossing his arms.

Immediately after, 2D turned to Noodle. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her, almost knocking the both of them to the ground. Shocked, she stayed still, letting the other man nuzzle his cheek against hers. “I missed you most, I fink, Noods.” He mumbled against her hair, kissing her forehead earnestly. Pulling away slightly but still holding onto her shoulders firmly, he looked in her eyes and grinned brightly, innocently. “I have so much to tell ya’!” He cried, laughing a bit.

Shell-shocked, Noodle, stood there, nodding dumbly and watching 2D as he ran over and hugged Russel’s toe affectionately.

She glanced at Murdoc, who was smiling pleasantly and watching the keyboardist trying to clumsily wrap his arms around the drummer’s enlarged toe. There was something more in his gaze, something deeper, something she had never fathomed the bassist would be capable of. The realisation finally hit her, hit her so hard that she swayed a bit on her feet.

Noodle grinned, puffing out her chest triumphantly.

Maybe things wouldn’t go _exactly_ back to normal, but maybe that was a good thing.


	2. Wishing

 Russel didn’t want to admit to himself that he was relieved, having almost fell over from the mere sight of 2D and Murdoc. Naturally, Del was quick to remind him.

“You missed them.” The voice mocked, chuckling wickedly. “I knew your anger was all an act, man. You’ve always been a shit liar.”

The drummer ignored the dull pounding in the back of his brain, waiting numbly on the shore while he watched Noodle embrace 2D with d clutching his own arm desperately. They locked eyes shortly after, tears in her eyes. He glanced at Murdoc, who was watching the young guitarist with a twisted expression an

Murdoc opened him mouth, looking like he wanted to say something, but ending up just letting out a shocked, pained sound. Russel blinked, startled. For the first time in his life, he thought that the other man looked genuinely _happy_ to see him. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, his own defence faltering from the rare expression of emotion from his bandmate.

“You look terrible.” His deep voice muttered, causing the other two reuniting band members to anxiously look over at them. Murdoc stared up at him, eyes wide and mouth slack jawed.

Russel hadn’t realised that he was so tense until Murdoc started howling with his familiar hysterical laughter. He doubled over and clutched his stomach desperately, almost toppling over. The drummer, despite himself, found himself hesitantly chuckling along with him. Before he knew it, he was shaking the ground below them with laughter.

“And you look bigger than ever.” Murdoc shouted up to him once he caught his breath, grinning wickedly. The drummer squinted down at him, trying in vain to wipe the smirk off his own face.

Leaning down, he hovered over the Satanist and studied his face. He looked much older, drunker, and much, much more hideous. The thought made him snort. “Missed ya too, gross fucker.” He grunted, grinning.

Murdoc just beamed up at him.

\--

Even from the first moment he’d met Murdoc, Russel knew that he would never meet anyone quite like him. Maybe that was why he stuck around so long. Despite the man obvious lack of common sense, emotional stability, and care towards others, he did exceed at his craft. Granted his craft was being an asshole, but it almost always seemed to work out for the band. Almost.

As much as he tried to ignore it, Gorillaz needed Murdoc Niccals – whether they wanted him or not.

Though the bassist was sadistic bastard who caused nothing but trouble, over the years, Russel had gained a begrudging respect for the older man. He admired the man solely on his musical ability. It was true that he was a good-for-nothing prick, but he was a good-for-nothing prick who could also craft something oddly beautiful with just a badly tuned guitar with three strings. The man was a genius, really. He hated saying that, but, unfortunately, it was true.

“You talk a lot about your bandmates Miss Noodle and Mr D,” A reporter had once said, looking down at the pad of paper in her hands. She glowered up at him critically over her glasses. “How about your relationship with Mr Niccals? What do you have to say about him?”

Honestly, Russel didn’t want to say anything but the painfully truthful, terrible things about his band mate. He opened his mouth, fully intending to express the hatred he felt towards Murdoc, but he changed his mind at the last second.

Smiling politely to the young woman, he answered the question easily. “Murdoc Niccals is one of the worst people I’ve ever met.” The reporter looked shocked for a moment, writing his response down vigorously. “But I couldn’t be happier I’m working with him.”

Russel found himself pleased with the answer he had given. Years later, he stupidly never expected the answer to change so drastically.

Deep down, he knew he was expecting it; he was just waiting for the Satanist to eventually do something so horrible that Russel would actually try to kill him. Just as he was starting to call the bassist one of his friends, Murdoc had to go and ruin it. Just like he always did. Fuck everything up, just as it was getting good.

“Murdoc,” 2D had whispered, the naturally shrill voice of his cracking brokenly. It was rare that he use the bassist’s full name outside of interviews, Murdoc knew that as well as – maybe even more than – Russel did. That was probably why he flashed the keyboardist probably the most fearful look he had ever produced. “Where’s Noodle?”

The two locked eyes, a silent conversation passing between them.

Murdoc turned away, crossing his arms over his chest. A fiery white rage ran through Russel’s entire body; how dare he acted like this meant nothing to him. They all knew it meant the world to him. What was he trying to hide? _Why_ was he trying to hide?

“I don’t know, faceache.” He muttered, staring daggers into the ground beneath him. “I know as much as you do. What do you want me to sa--”

A loud crash ripped Russel’s glare away from the bassist, eyes widening.

2D was staring at Murdoc, expression unlike the drummer had ever seen before. He was trembling, his shoulders rocking with every shallow breath he took. His fist was bloody, laying numbly at his side. Next to him was the frame of a mirror. Pieces of glass fell helplessly to the floor, breaking the constrictive silence in the room.

“Quit the _bullshit_!” The keyboardist cried, tears forming. He cursed loudly, skewing his eyes shut and wiping violently at them. Falling to his knees, he began to sob hysterically. Russel immediately ran to his side, crouching down beside him, when the other man began to desperately catch his breath. 2D clutched his chest, glaring up at the bassist with a kind of venom that only an unhuman amount of anger could muster.

“You’re s—such a—such a…I fucking _hate you_ , Murdoc!” The frontman shrieked, slamming his own forehead against the floor. He banged hard on his own chest, only stopping when Russel grabbed his hand and held it to the floor. The man’s body raked with powerful sobs, sagging against the drummer’s thigh.

Russel looked up at Murdoc. The bassist wasn’t looking at them; he was staring down at the floor with huge, bloodshot eyes.

“Get the fuck out.” The drummer had growled.

He didn’t have to tell the other man twice.

\--

Russel stared ahead at the moon in front of him. Careful not to move his head too much, he watched as the light danced beautifully along the water with every step he took. He conducted the waves with his fingers, trying to distract himself from his fatigue. The man on the moon smiled at him, waving. Yawning, he smiled back politely. His mama hadn’t raised him to be rude to anyone, no matter how lunar they happened to be.

He felt something small tap the top of his forehead. Blinking, he lifted his hand to the crown of his head and waited for his bandmate to crawl on. Then, he lowered his hand, setting whoever it was gently on his shoulder. Once he felt them stumble to get comfortable, he knew exactly who it was. He smiled.

“What’re y’all still doin’ up, D?” Russel asked, staring straight ahead of him in the fear of waking the other two. He winced slightly. “Did I wake you up?”

The reply was quick. “Nah, nah, Russ.” 2D slurred, patting the side of the drummers face reassuringly. “You didn’t wake me up.

Russel raised an eyebrow. “Then what’s wrong, man?”

He narrowed his eyes when he felt the other man tense.

A soft sigh. “Couldn’t sleep, I guess.” The blue-haired man said, sounding utterly spent. “I was too excited to sit still and got to bed. Plus, oceans make me nervous, y’know?” He paused and Russel could feel him shift towards him. “But I know you’d protect me from any… _whales_ , right Russ?”

“Right.”

“I knew it!” 2D exclaimed knowingly. “Hey, Russ, did y’know that some whales can talk like humans? D’ ya know what that means, mate? They’re tryin’ t’ become us. They’re gonna take over ‘n everyone’s gonna think i’s jus’ a normal ol’ bloke or bird, man…”

The drummer tried to listen, refraining from looking curiously at the babbling younger man. 2D was rambling again; he always rambled when something was really bothering him. Russel, knowing that the keyboardist wasn’t one to talk much about anything to anyone, tried to pay attention to what he was actually saying. But he was too distracted by what he wasn’t saying.

It also didn’t help that the mischievous voice in the back of his head that kept chanting “ask him, ask him, ask him” over and over again.

Frustrated, worried, and tired, Russel interrupted the other man with a growl. “Shut up, D.” He felt the other man flinch, but do as he was told. The drummer felt immediately guilty, feeling the other man slouch against him dejectedly. He was glad he couldn’t see his face. “Tell me what’s really wrong, man.” He said gently.

2D was silent for such a long time, Russel thought he had crawled back up his neck to escape the question without him noticing. The drummer opened his mouth, about to ask if he was still there, but the keyboardist bluntly cut him off.

“Did Del tell you somefing was wrong?” He spit out the rappers name roughly, almost sounding betrayed. Russel tensed at hearing the name being said aloud, his heart surging forward in his chest. He cursed inwardly.

He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, taking a deep breath before answering. “Del’s gone, D.” He insisted lamely, trying to ignore the cruel, fabricated chuckling that made his head pound. “He’s been gone for a long time.” He said, mostly to himself.

To his surprise, 2D scoffed.

“Tell him to mind his own, business, eh?” 2D demanded bitterly.

The voice that resembled his long, gone friend raged inside Russel’s skull. He winced. “Y’all can tell that muthafucka he can shove that shit right back up his--”

“’m fine.” 2D declared, as if he could hear the voice himself. The drummer was shell shocked at how Del’s voice immediately disappeared when the keyboardist spoke. Despite the tense situation, he smiled thankfully for his bandmates presence. 2D, though he never seemed aware of it, had a kind of sixth sense for helping out others when they really needed it. He turned carefully to tell the other man how much he had missed him, stopping when he saw the tears streaming down his face. He smiled mildly.

Sighing gently, he directed his attention back up at the moon. It was frowning sadly at 2D, shaking its head. Russel gave it an empathetic half-smile.

“All right.”

“Really I am!” 2D protested unconvincingly.

“I know, man.”

As night dragged on, the two bandmates held a bland conversation. Eventually, they both just stopped talking, finding it easier to just listen to the waves crashing. After a while, Russel felt 2D sag against him as he finally fell restlessly asleep. He couldn’t help the ease he felt when he did.

The moon frowned at him so he looked away.

\--

He was sick and tired of waiting for 2D and Murdoc to stop pretending.

In the beginning, he just ignored it. He ignored the lingering touches, the prolonged eye contact, and the extended amount of alone time spent together after band practice; honestly, he was happy for them. Their time together seemed to make both of them happier. Plus, they fought a lot less. Sure, there was the occasional fist fight about something Murdoc, for some reason, found important. And, yeah, it was normal for bandmates to have an argument – Lord knows Russel had his fair share of arguments with his bandmates himself. Still, they seemed to be laughing a lot more than screaming. Russel looked at their newfound closeness as some kind of blessing.

Yet, he still found himself wondering why neither of his bandmates came out and told him the truth about what was going on between them. He waited, staring at them expectantly whenever they sat a little too close to each other during band meetings. They never said anything, though. Eventually, their dramatic, unnecessary secrecy began to infuriate the drummer. Every time they even looked at each other, Russel wanted to scream at them to just admit it. Of course, they never did.

“Shut the _fuck_ _up_ , dent-face!” Murdoc’s harsh voice screamed from the lounge. Russel cringed when he felt Noodle flinch next to him. He glanced up at her, slurping loudly from his spoonful of soup. The guitarist was clenching the counter with white knuckles, looking like she was getting ready to jump up from her seat. Russel furrowed his eyebrows, concerned. She had just sat down from recording all day. She needed a well-deserved break.

With a sigh, the drummer stood quickly before she could. “I’ll go check on them, baby girl.”

He smiled when the younger girl beamed up at him gratefully and sipped her soup happily.

It wasn’t like Russel to pass up an opportunity to put Murdoc in his place. Still, he found himself walking slowly towards the living room. There was a something nagging at the back of his head; asking him to wait and see before walking in. And, for some strange reason, he listened. When he reached the entrance, he pressed his ear against the door.

“Look at me,” Murdoc’s voice said again, his voice much quieter this time. The drummer didn’t know if it was because he didn’t want to be heard or because his anger had subsided. There a short pause. “Stuart, look at me, mate.” The bassist repeated, almost sounding apologetic. Russel would have even gone as far as pleading.

A soft sigh followed a short silence. Shuffling.

“It’s like this, Stu.” The bassist continued. “If we tell them, we won’t be able to keep it a secret from everyone else. Eventually it’s gonna come out in an interview or--”

2D’s interrupted Murdoc, annoyed. “Why’s that sucha bad fing, then?” Another beat of silence. A scoff. “You’re jus’ afraid. You’re a—you’re a spineless jellyfish, that’s what you are. You’re terrified of people callin’ you a po--”

He was cut off by a sharp slap across the face.

Russel barged through the door, slamming it against the wall as he did. Immediately, he stomped over to Murdoc, grabbing his shirt collar and hissing dangerously. The bassist shut his eyes, preparing himself for the blow. The drummer craned back his fist.

“Stop!”

Both men looked over at 2D, shocked.

The keyboardist was holding his cheek and staring up at Russel pleadingly. He quickly stumbled to his feet, wincing a bit as he cracked his own jaw. “Don’t worry, Russ.” He laughed humourlessly, glancing down at him and smiling. “Me and Muds was jus’ joking ‘round. Right, mate?” He said, glancing at the bassist.

Murdoc blinked at the keyboardist with an odd mixture of confusion, anger, and appreciation on his face. Slowly, he nodded, not taking his eyes off him. The two stared at each other for a long time and Russel rolled his eyes. Again with this shit? He was sick and tired of it.

“Then consider this the punchline.” He growled, punching the bassist in the jaw hard enough to crack bone. Letting Murdoc go, the bassist fell to the floor rubbing his jaw. He glared up at Russel, pushing away 2D when the keyboardist leant down to help him up. The drummer just stared at them, incredulous as well as disgusted.

Russel huffed, turning on his heel and let 2D fuss over the bassist. He didn’t have time for this anyway, he needed to get ready for the music video tomorrow.

\--

Murdoc fiddled around with Noodle’s guitar, playing an out-of-tune melody on the worn strings. He hummed a tune quietly, tapping his feet against the ground – which happened to be the inflated drummer’s collarbone. Russel lifted his head, looking down at the bassist curiously when he cried out. The Satanist looked up at the drummer, laughing gleefully.

“How about that one, eh?” He exclaimed, playing it again for him. “The next Feel Good Inc.?”

Russel chuckled absently, laying his head back down in the water and gazing up at the cloudless sky. “Maybe, man.” He muttered, mesmerizing spots from the sun dancing across his vision. He tried to follow them, furrowing his brows as they narrowly escaped him. Hissing, he began to spin his head to try to catch them. Eventually, he got too dizzy and stopped.

“You all right, mate?”

The drummer glanced down at Murdoc again, who was now staring at him.

“Yeah,” He said quickly. “I’m cool.”

Murdoc snorted, playing the melody again. “Bullshit.”

Annoyed, Russel narrowed his eyes at the other man. “I’m fine.” He repeated, inwardly sneering when Murdoc chuckled again without looking up from the guitar. “I’ve never been better, man. I mean, I found Noodle. You and 2D and fine. I’m good. I’m—Would you tune that thing already!?”

“Satan! Is it that time of the month already?” Murdoc laughed again, setting down the guitar and turning towards the drummer. “All right, lardarse. Tell ol’ Murdoc what’s got your knickers in a twist, eh?”

Russel had every intention of just ignoring the bassist; he just wanted to look back up at the sky and put his ears under water so he didn’t have to hear anything anymore. But he didn’t.

“What did you do to D?” He exclaimed, looking critically down at the other man.

Murdoc froze, blinking owlishly at the drummer. The look on the man’s face made Russel want to laugh as well as kept him from doing so. In one swift motion, the bassist turned away from him and picked up the guitar, noodling around with it once again. He rolled his eyes; even after all these years, the two men still wouldn’t address anything involving the two of them. He looked back up at the sky, assuming the conversation was over – he should’ve known, really.

So, naturally, he was surprised when he actually answered.

“Nothing.” Murdoc responded, pausing in his guitar playing. “I mean, nothing too terrible.” He added, laughing humourlessly and glancing at him.

Instinctively, Russel laughed with him, still trying to get over the shock of the older man actually _talking_ to him without a bit a sarcasm. He blinked at the other man, still feeling a little dazed from the afternoon sun. The bassist looked over at him, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“Is that all?” He asked. The drummer was about to shake his head, but Del answered for him.

“No.” His mouth said - he squinted at Murdoc’s calm composure, baffled as to why he hadn’t walked away yet. He was almost acting like they were friends. Maybe he thought they were. Hell, maybe they were. A fucked up version, that was. “Yes. I mean, no. Why’re you wearing a shirt?”

Murdoc looked confused. He looked down at his striped shirt, pulling it away from his body with thin, green fingers. His putrid fingernails ran across the fabric self-consciously and he gazed back up at Russel, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “I dunno. I don’t want to burn, I guess.” He paused, eyes searching the drummer’s expression. “Russ, are you sure you’re oka--”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” Russel interrupted him, hand slapping down into the water. Murdoc flinched when water splayed across his back, shivering a bit.

He stared at the drummer, bewildered. “What are you talkin’ abou--”

“You _took_ 2D.” Russel growled, glaring viciously at the other man. His heart raced furiously in his chest, his mind was pulsing violently against his skull, and he felt sick. For some reason, he couldn’t stop the string of half-incoherent words that erupted from him. “You made a _machine_ to replace Noodle, for fucks sake! Why didn’t you ask me? Why didn’t you ask me to help?”

The spots in front of his eyes doubled in size. He gasped as his fell back, crashing into the water. His lips moved, but no sound came out. His chest compressed as he sucked in frantic breaths. Oh god, he felt like he was going to die.

He heard muffled shouts calling his name as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Hours later, he woke up, feeling utterly awful.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Noodle was standing just above his nose, looking down at him worriedly. She wrapped herself around the bridge of his nose, rambling about how he had passed out from the heat of the sun and Murdoc had treated him.

Russel looked over said Satanist, shocked. Murdoc didn’t look at him. “Treating sunstroke is hard when your patient is bigger than the fucking London Eye.” He grumbled, glaring at the drummer. “You fucking scared the shit out of Noodle and faceache, fat arse.” Rubbing his hands together, he looked down at them, expression hardening. “You scared me. You _scare_ me, Russ. That’s why, all right?”

The drummer pursed his lips, hazily recalling their conversation before.

Suddenly, he broke out into a fit of giggles. He threw his head back, closing his eyes and chuckling deliriously. His entire body shook with laughter, creating an earthquake below his band mate’s feet. He looked up at a very startled Murdoc, grinning.

“I’ve been waiting for years for you to admit that, cracker ass.”

Murdoc cried out, stomping his foot defiantly. Russel broke out into another fit of laughter, eliciting a bout of giggles from the other two bandmates. The bassist just glared at all of them, crossing his arms across his chest and muttering to himself.

And, for the first time in a long time, Russel realised that he was happy. No, everything wasn’t perfect – nothing was perfect, really. But he was happy. He was finally happy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all I have so far! I'll update when I can. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! Sorry if the formatting's off, still getting used to this site! :)


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